


Touch Me

by Carriex3 (realthicbitch)



Category: The Nanny
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 11:44:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20007766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realthicbitch/pseuds/Carriex3
Summary: He thought about her hair a lot. The way the curls above her ears and by her temples perfectly framed her face. The scent of her shampoo and her spicy perfume tickling his nose whenever she hugged him. How soft it felt in his hands the first time he had kissed her. How it might feel dragging along his bare chest or clenched in his fist.





	Touch Me

Maxwell watched Fran as she left his office, her hair that used to hang just below her shoulders now hung to her waist, curls bouncing as she moved. He thought about her hair a lot. It was a rather odd fixation, he realized, but it never ceased to hypnotize him. The way the baby curls above her ears and by her temples perfectly framed her face. The scent of her shampoo and her spicy perfume tickling his nose whenever she hugged him. How soft it felt in his hands the first time he had kissed her. How it might feel dragging along his bare chest or wrapped in his fist as they—

"Uh, Mistah Sheffield," Fran interrupted his thoughts as she returned to the office. "I just remembered what Brighton wanted me to ask you. He was wondering if… Hello?" She snapped her fingers a couple of times when he didn't immediately pay her attention.

"Hm, yes, Miss Fine? What about him?" He cleared his throat, taking her in. She was wearing a short, dark blue skirt and a white blouse decorated with lace around the neck and down the sleeves. The sun setting outside created a golden halo around the poof at the top of her head.

"Oy, what's got you so distracted?" Fran asked, coming around to his side of the desk and perching herself in her usual spot. "Are you hungry? Food usually helps me focus. Unless I'm trying to help B with his math, nothing can help me with that." She crossed her legs at the knees and Maxwell couldn't help but notice how her skirt hiked up slightly. He always noticed when that happened.

"It's nothing, Miss Fine. Just some… last minute issues with this script." Fran glanced down at his empty desktop and smirked.

"Meanwhile, there's nothing on your desk, so I know that's not true. What's really goin' on?" She uncrossed her legs and nudged him with her knee, raising her skirt ever so slightly higher. Maxwell risked a glance, catching a brief look at her bare thighs. She normally wore tights or stockings, but he vaguely remembered her saying she'd finally put a run in her last good pair. A few moments passed and he still hadn't come up with a decent excuse, so he changed the subject.

"Come to think of it, I am a bit peckish. Have you eaten? Would you care to join me?" He asked as he rose from his chair. Fran hopped off of the desk, her hair falling behind her shoulders and exposing the side of her neck, making Maxwell wonder what it would be like to kiss her there.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Fran approached him with narrowed eyes. He was certainly digging himself in deep. How could he tell her that he was completely intoxicated by her? His skin prickled at the thought of pulling Fran to him by her hips and tangling his hands in her hair as he kissed her. She stepped closer to him, her hands on her hips.

"Why… are you… looking at me like that?" Maxwell floundered for an excuse.

"It's just, uh, well. It's your hair, Miss Fine," he began as her expression changed from suspicion to panic, her hands flying to her hair.

"Is it my poof? Oh I told Maggie this hairspray wouldn't be better just because it was more expensive! You know I have used Final Net for the last ten years and it has never failed me." Fran tried desperately to catch her reflection in the glass of the terrace door. Maxwell chuckled.

"No, it's not your poof. Your hair is just… longer. I hadn't noticed before," he lied. "It's quite becoming."

Fran's demeanor changed instantly. She smiled modestly and flipped her hair over the front of her left shoulder.

"Aw, Mistah Sheffield. Yeah, it kind of got away from me. But I think I like it long." She twirled a curl around her finger absentmindedly. "It takes me twice as long to get ready in the morning though," Fran said at the same time Maxwell said he liked it, too. He stepped closer to her. They were now just an arm's length apart.

"I like it, too," he repeated softly. He found himself reaching out to her, stroking one of her curls between his two fingers. The air between them became heavy, and Fran felt her heartbeat quicken the way it always did when he touched her like this. Maxwell combed his fingers through the remaining length of her hair and let his hand settle on her hip. He met her gaze, and when she gave no sign of protest, he pulled her closer to him, her body just inches away from his.

"Fran," he sighed, his thumb rubbing circles just over the top hem of her skirt. She rested her palms against his chest and leaned into him. He could smell her perfume, warm and rich and inviting as he kissed her cheek.

"Max…"

He kissed her then, properly. His left hand met the small of her back and pulled her as close to him as possible. With his right hand he reached behind her, lacing his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck. He had imagined holding her like this so many times before. Removing his lips from hers briefly, he reached behind her poof and removed her barrette, making her gasp.

"I can't believe you just did that," Fran admonished playfully as she pulled away from him. She bowed at the waist and shook her hair out with her fingers. She snapped upright and her hair fell around her like a veil. Maxwell took the brief separation as an opportunity to close and lock the office door. Something had come over him, an almost insatiable desire to touch her all over, to claim her, to please her. He would be lying if he said having her in the office wasn't a fantasy of his. Each time she sat herself upon his desk, it took a great effort to be gentlemanly. To not stare at her legs and imagine himself kissing them. To not reach for her hips and pull her into his lap instead. And how much he loved her hips. He imagined his hands there often.

Fran hopped up on Maxwell's desk, facing him. She gestured with grabbing hands for him to come to her again, and she opened her legs as he approached her, allowing him to be close. His mouth took hers once again and he felt her sigh. She ran her hands over his chest and his abdomen, stopping when she reached his belt. She made to unbuckle it, but he stopped her hands with his. Despite how hard he was, and how long he had waited for her to touch him this way, he wanted to please her first.

"Not yet." He took her hand in his and kissed her wrist, up her forearm, the crook of her elbow. His lips reached her neck. His tongue darted out to taste her skin as he kissed and suckled his way from her collarbone to her jaw before finding her mouth again. He licked her lips and she opened her mouth to him.

"Touch me," Fran whispered against his lips, smiling as she felt his hands move from her hips to her stomach, tugging at her blouse until he had untucked it from her skirt. Fran pulled the blouse off over her head and sat there in nothing but her skirt and brassiere. And what a lovely brassiere it was, Max thought as he drank in the sight before him. It was lacey and thin, and left very little uncovered. His fingers toyed with the straps that crossed over the tops of her breasts, and he felt goosebumps appear on her skin at his touch.

Fran reached behind her back and undid the clasp, keeping it in place with her arms. But that just wouldn't do, and Maxwell hooked his fingers under the straps. "Is this alright?" He asked, and when met with a breathy Oh yes, he pulled it away, revealing her breasts to him. He sighed and dropped the brassiere to the floor with her blouse.

"You," he said, "are beautiful," between kisses.

He brought his lips to her neck once again, feeling the moan begin in her throat before he actually heard it. He kissed his way across her collarbones and over the tops of her breasts, the freckles on her chest constellations he wanted to memorize. With his mouth, he covered one of her nipples with a heat that made her moan and arch her back. He flicked her nipple with his tongue and cupped her other breast with his hand, circling her nipple with his finger.

Fran sighed contentedly, her hand at the back of Maxwell's neck, holding him to her. She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him closer to her.

"Touch. Me."

Maxwell pulled his mouth away from Fran's chest and met her gaze. She arched one eyebrow at him and used her hands to move his to the top of her skirt.

"Miss Fine," Maxwell growled as he pulled her skirt and panties down to her knees, letting them fall off of her legs and onto the floor. He dropped to his knees and pushed her legs apart with his hands, then wrapped his fingers around her calves and kissed just above her right knee, making his way up over the inside of her thigh. Fran leaned back onto the desk, resting on her hands and making sounds that made Maxwell crazy. She was completely exposed to him for the first time, and she felt herself becoming wetter as Maxwell nipped and kissed the skin on her thighs. She gasped as she felt his breath against her wet center. With two fingers he pushed her lips apart and for the first time felt how ready she was for him. He kissed her just above the soft curls between her legs and made his way down to where she was most sensitive. His tongue flicked out to taste her for the first time.

"Max… Max," she struggled with the word, too focused on what his tongue was now doing to her clit. "I don't want to do this on your desk." He pulled away and looked up at her. "There's a perfectly good couch ova there." Maxwell grinned and rose from the floor, wrapped Fran's legs around his waist, and picked her up off of the desk. He held her bottom in his hands and she put her arms around his neck. He was painfully aware of the wet spot she was creating on the front of his shirt. When they reached the other side of the room, she climbed off of him and sat on the edge of the sofa, never breaking eye contact as she reclined and opened her legs to him again, and he was on the floor in front of her in seconds.

"You have too many clothes on," she murmured, beginning to undo the buttons of his collar. Once it was opened enough, she yanked the shirt over his head roughly. She raked her fingernails over his chest and smiled. "That's a little better."

Max held Fran's hips in his hands as he dipped his head between her legs, his tongue meeting her clit again. He suckled her gently, making sure to take the time to lick her from bottom to top, savoring the taste of her. He slid one finger inside of her, then a second, curling them just so and making her gasp and stumble over his name. Too many letters, she thought briefly. Who needs 'em all.

He licked lazy circles around her clit, then continued to suckle her, flicking her with his tongue as he did so. Fran sighed and pushed his head closer to her. It didn't take long for her to come, her legs shaking and tightening around Maxwell's head.

"Oh, get up here," Fran said as she pulled him up to kiss her. She could taste herself on his mouth. She reached for his belt buckle again, but he didn't stop her this time, letting her unbuckle it and open the button and zipper of his pants. Fran pushed them down as far as she could from the position they were in, until Maxwell stood and removed them fully. He sat beside her and pulled her into his lap, turning her so she was facing him. Now straddling his legs, Fran was in control. She rose up and inched forward, wrapping a hand around Maxwell and guiding him toward her. She heard him inhale sharply as she dragged him through her wetness before lowering herself onto him slowly. She rested there for a few moments, not moving. Her hands on his chest, she leaned forward and kissed him, sliding her tongue between his lips. Maxwell bucked his hips and that encouraged her to set a pace.

Maxwell reached between them to stroke Fran's clit as she rose and fell, circling her hips in the most delicious way. With his free hand he reached behind her and ran his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck. He kissed her neck and nipped at the skin just above her collarbone, making her yelp. She dug her nails into his shoulders as he bucked his hips, hitting just the right spot with each thrust. Her breath came in bursts and she moaned as she came, Maxwell still stroking her clit and sending shivers through her whole body.

Feeling Fran come around him drove Maxwell crazy. He quickened his pace and cupped her breast with one hand while holding her to him by the small of her back with the other.

"Fran… I'm going to…" he trailed off, barely having the presence of mind to let her know he was about to come as well. They hadn't used protection. He didn't think she'd want him still inside her.

"It's okay," she purred as she ground her hips into him. She felt him twitch. "I'm on the pill." She purposely clenched around him, finally sending him over the edge. He held her to him by her hips and finished inside of her, grunting, out of breath and sweaty and just so handsome, she couldn't take it. She kissed him softly and sat up straight, watching him come down.

Maxwell couldn't form a sentence. Too many things were going through his head, particularly how much he wanted to get her in his bed. But she smiled at him and stroked his cheek, and all lustful thoughts were replaced by a swell of affection for her. She was absolutely stunning in this moment, hair out of place and stuck to her damp skin, lipstick smeared around her mouth and her body covered in a crimson flush. He wanted to remember her like this forever. She climbed off of him and snuggled into his side. They sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying each other silently. Maxwell stroked her hair and wound her curls around his fingers. Fran hummed in contentment.

"Um… Miss Fine… Fran. That was -"

"Amazing? Wonderful? A long time coming?" Fran smirked as she stood up and reached for her clothes, tossing Maxwell his pants. She dressed quickly and shook out her hair, trying to make it look less obvious what they had just done.

"Well, yes," Maxwell replied, buttoning his pants but leaving his belt undone. "I don't suppose you'd want to join me in the jacuzzi to uh, freshen up?"

Fran pulled him by the waistband until he was flush against her. She kissed him deeply and dropped her hands to his bottom, gently squeezing him.

"What's the point? We're just gonna get filthy again." She laughed and pulled him out of the office by the hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't finished writing anything for like, the last five years. This really came out of nowhere, but I just bought all the seasons of The Nanny on DVD and watched them in less than a week. Clearly I have no life.


End file.
